House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City, #2)

Hunt twisted, pinning her against the wall, and her mouth opened wider on a gasp. He swept his tongue in, tasting the honeyed spice that was pure Bryce. She wrapped a leg around his waist, and Hunt took the invitation, hefting her thigh higher, pressing himself against her until they were both writhing.

Anyone might walk by the alley and see them. Lunchtime workers were streaming past. All it would take was one peek down the alley into the dusty shadows, one photograph, and this whole thing—

Hunt halted.

One photo, and her engagement to Cormac would be off. Along with the bargain Bryce had crafted with him.

Bryce asked, panting hard, “What’s wrong?”

“We, ah …” Words had become foreign. All thought had gone between his legs. Between her legs.

He swallowed hard, then gently backed away, trying to master his jagged breathing. “You’re engaged. Technically. You have to keep up that ruse with Cormac, at least in public.”

She straightened her dress, and—shit. Was that a lilac lace bra peeking out from the neckline? Why the fuck hadn’t he explored that just now? Bryce peered down the alley, lips swollen from his kisses, and some feral part of him howled in satisfaction to see that he had done that, he had brought that flush to her cheeks and wine-rich scent of arousal to her. She was his.

And he was hers. Utterly fucking hers.

“Are you suggesting we find a seedy motel instead?” Her lips curved, and Hunt’s cock throbbed at the sight, as if begging for her mouth to slide over him.

He let out a strangled noise. “I’m suggesting …” Hel, what was he suggesting? “I don’t know.” He blew out a breath. “You’re sure you want to do this now?” He gestured between them. “I know emotions are high after what we’ve learned. I …” He couldn’t look at her. “Whatever you want, Quinlan. That’s what I mean to say.”

She was silent for a moment. Then her hand slid over his chest, landing upon his heart. “What do you want? Why is it only what I want?”

“Because you were the one who mentioned waiting until solstice.”

“And?”

“And I want to make sure that you’re fully on board with ending our … agreement.”

“All right. But I also want to know what you want, Hunt.”

He met her golden stare. “You know what I want.” He couldn’t stop his voice from lowering again. “I’ve never stopped wanting it—wanting you. I thought it was obvious.”

Her heart was thundering. He could hear it. He glanced down at her ample chest and beheld a faint glimmering. “Your star …”

“Let’s not even get started on this thing,” she said, waving a hand at it. “Let’s keep talking about how much you want me.” She winked.

Hunt slung an arm around her shoulders, steering her back toward the bustling avenue. He whispered in her ear, “Why don’t I just show you later?”

She laughed, the star’s glow fading in the sunlight as they emerged onto the baking streets, and she slipped on her sunglasses and hat. “That’s what I want, Hunt. That is definitely what I want.”





18

Ithan rubbed at his face. This day had gotten … complicated.

“You look like you need a drink,” Tharion said as he strode to the apartment door. Ruhn had left a moment ago. Ithan supposed he’d sit on his ass for a good few hours and contemplate the epic mess he’d somehow landed in the middle of. That Bryce seemed intent on involving herself in.

“How long have you guys been doing all this shit?”

“You know what happened during the Summit, right?”

“Demons wrecked the city, killed a lot of people. Two Archangels died. Everyone knows that.”

Tharion’s brows rose. “You ever learn how Micah and Sandriel died?”

Ithan blinked, bracing himself.

Tharion’s expression was dead serious. “I am telling you this after I received a personal phone call from Rigelus three months ago, telling me to keep my mouth shut or I’d be killed, my parents with me. But as everything I’m doing these days seems to point toward that road anyway—you might as well know the truth, too. Since you’ll likely wind up dead with us.”

“Fantastic.” Ithan wished Perry had dumped him anywhere but this apartment.

Tharion said, “Hunt ripped Sandriel’s head from her shoulders after the Archangel threatened Bryce.”

Ithan started. He’d known Athalar was intense as shit, but killing an Archangel—

“And Bryce slaughtered Micah after he bragged about killing Danika and the Pack of Devils.”

Ithan’s body went numb. “I …” He couldn’t get a breath down. “Micah … what?”

By the time Tharion finished explaining, Ithan was shaking. “Why didn’t she tell me?” That packless wolf inside him was howling with rage and pain.

Fuck, Sabine had no idea Micah had killed her daughter. Or … wait. Sabine did know. Sabine and Amelie had both been at the Summit, along with the Prime. They’d witnessed through the feeds what Tharion had just described.

And … and hadn’t told him. The rest of the Den, fine, but Connor was his brother. The urge to shift, to bellow and roar, filled his blood, trembling along his bones. He suppressed it.

Tharion went on, unaware of the animal within trying to claw free. “The Asteri have made it clear to Bryce and Athalar: one word to anyone, and they’re dead. The only reason they’re not dead yet is because they’ve played nicely this summer.”

Claws appeared at Ithan’s fingertips. Tharion didn’t fail to note them.

Through a mouth full of lengthening fangs, Ithan growled, “Micah killed my brother. And Bryce killed Micah because of it.” He couldn’t wrap his mind around it—that Bryce, before the Drop, had destroyed an Archangel.

It made no sense.

He’d had the audacity, the ignorance, to question her love for Danika and Connor. His claws and fangs retracted. That wolf inside ceased baying.

Ithan rubbed at his face again, shame an oily river through him that drowned that wolf inside his skin. “I need some time to process this.” The wolf he used to be would have run to the sunball field to practice until he became nothing but breath and sweat and the thoughts sorted themselves out. But he hadn’t set foot on one of those fields in two years. He wasn’t going to start now.

Tharion headed for the door again. “I’m sure you do, but a word of advice: don’t take too long. Urd works in strange ways, and I don’t think it was a coincidence that you were brought here right as this shit started.”

“So I’m supposed to go along with it on some hunch that fate is nudging me?”

“Maybe,” the mer answered. He shrugged his powerful shoulders, honed from a lifetime of swimming. “But whenever you’re tired of sitting on the couch feeling sorry for yourself, come find me. I could use a wolf’s sense of smell.”

“For what?”

Tharion’s face turned grave. “I need to find Emile before Pippa Spetsos. Or Cormac.”

The mer left him with that. For a long moment, Ithan sat in silence.

Had Connor known anything about Danika’s involvement with Sofie Renast? Had Sabine? He doubted it, but … At least Bryce had been as much in the dark about this as he was.